Six On The Second Hand
by BruisedSmile
Summary: No-one should ring in the bells alone. Promises are made to be kept.


**Six On The Second Hand**

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><p>Six minutes to midnight.<p>

Rachel pulled her jacket tight against the bitter wind, burrowing into her scarf with a dejected huff as she adjusted her elbows on the brick ledge. Her gaze swept down over the glittering city lights that stretched into the horizon – but for once the sight of her home and dreams brought little comfort, failed to warm the brooding beats of her heart. The distant noise of revellers dropped away as she tilted her head up and released a deep breath into the night air, searching the secrets of the heavens until her bright eyes seemed to shine with starlight.

She always knew it would be difficult. They were both too in love with the wanderlust of youth, both too determined and eager to follow wherever their mutual passions took them. They could never resent the demands of their vocation, and so the resentment all too often fell on each other when the loneliness of separation took its toll. Plans changed at the last minute all the time, their worlds existed in a constant state of flux, she knew that. But that didn't mean she had to accept it gracefully.

Three months.

It was just too much. All the communication technology of their generation just couldn't come close to the pure comfort of touch, the raw exhilaration of heat and taste and _need_. Sometimes the physical distance was so frustrating that even the velvet melody of his voice couldn't ease the yearning ache of intimacy. Yet it was the little things that she missed even more. A wry comment murmured in her ear that made her smile against her better judgement, the warm slide of his fingers entwining so closely with hers, the touch of his lips at the nape of her neck, kissing her awake with the rising sun. It was stupid and naïve, but she still hadn't been able to stop herself from setting all her hopes in stone upon this day, fixing this date as a certainty that both should have known they could never guarantee.

She _really_ didn't want to go back to an empty apartment again. Not tonight. Rachel closed her eyes, grimacing as their last conversation echoed through her mind again, burned into her memory with bitterness and regret.

_"I don't understand what the problem is," she argued angrily, pushing distracted fingers through her hair as she rushed along the streets to the subway, already running late. "You booked the time off, didn't you?"_

_"Well, as much as I could," he sighed, sounding tired, and she vaguely realised what time it was for him. "But there's been a change in schedule and we've got two weeks less than we thought. There's nothing I can do, Rach, unless you want me to just ditch it all and walk out," he retorted sarcastically, making her scowl so fiercely that she received some odd looks from people hurrying in the other direction._

_"Don't pull that shit," she snapped. "This isn't about the production and you know it – this is about us. It's about trying to make the effort and keeping your word for once. I don't think fighting for one day together – hell, one evening – is too much to ask! The show's hardly going to collapse without you."_

_She could hear him frowning through the phone, his temper coming to the fore to match her own._

_"You don't think I would if I could? You think I don't want to see you just as badly, that I don't miss you like hell every fucking day? This isn't my call, Rachel. You're not the only one with conflicting commitments to honour – you couldn't get the time off either, remember? Not to mention the travel back is a total nightmare, especially at this time of year. I hate it just as much as you, but it's just not practical."_

_Rachel shook her head, fighting back the angry sting of tears. "You're really not coming home?"_

_There was a heavy sigh over the line, weary and defeated, and she could almost picture him dropping his head into his hand. "I can't, Rach. It –"_

_She hung up._

The chiming of the bells abruptly broke into her thoughts, bringing Rachel out of her reverie with a start. A great cheer went up from the streets below and she lifted her head just as the first of the fireworks climbed into the sky, cracking through the air in explosive rainbows of colour. A half-hearted smile tugged her lips, though the melancholy didn't quite leave her eyes as she observed the scenes of celebration that spread out over the city she adored, always so loud and bright and alive with energy. Nowhere did awe and spectacle quite like New York.

Yet all was still and silent up on the roof of her theatre, a dark stage amongst the noise and lights. It had always been her favourite place to come and think, to escape and unwind, to soak in the breathtaking view and remind herself just how lucky she actually was. It was hardly her little secret – she had shared many hours up here with various members of the cast, surrounded by laughter and music and an assortment of alcoholic beverages – but she was certainly the one who used the space the most. Her gaze dropped to the skyline again and she smiled as she thought of the giddy and embarrassing antics she would no doubt be regaled with by her co-stars, come a very bleary-eyed Monday morning.

She had been invited to several parties and street events by her friends, almost all but dragged along, but she really hadn't felt in the mood and had managed to duck out. Frustrated by her obvious sulking, they had urged her to call him, to make amends if only to spare them the stress of her bad mood. And yet in true stubborn style, she had refused. The fact was that broken promises were still a sore point when it came to Jesse. And while the distraction tonight probably would have done her good, as they had all so vocally insisted, her heart just hadn't been up to the effort. She may head along later, but for the midnight hour, she just wanted to be somewhere quiet. Somewhere where she didn't need her show face.

Absorbed in the crackle and burst of the fireworks that lit up the night, she didn't notice the rusty creak of the roof door, the approach of soft footsteps behind her. Caught off guard, Rachel drew in a sharp breath as a pair of strong arms slowly wrapped themselves around her waist, sliding under her jacket to settle over her stomach. Her heart cried out in recognition instantly, only a moment before her head caught up and she sank willingly into his embrace, leaning into the firm and comforting weight that pressed close against her back. The unmistakably delicious scent of leather and citrus filled her senses as she felt him smirk at her surprise, dropping his chin onto her shoulder and squeezing tighter, yet he remained silent in greeting – content to merely watch the stars with her. Rachel closed her eyes, as if afraid to turn around and somehow shatter the sweet illusion her longing had conjured up.

Carefully, achingly slowly, she inched her fingers down towards where his rested, guided to his touch by grain of instinct. Only when she felt the hot caress of his hands move to gather up hers, tangling their fingers and grasping firmly, did she release the breath she had been holding.

She honestly didn't care how he had found her, but she found herself asking all the same.

"Who ratted me out?"

She heard the smile in his answer, shivering as he breathed it against her neck, ruffling her hair.

"Blaine."

She rolled her eyes. "Blabbermouth," she grumbled, though the corner of her lips curved with affection.

He laughed, and the sound warmed her down to the tips of her toes. "Can I help it if your best friends are hopeless romantics?" he replied smoothly. "Not to mention – more than a little afraid of you."

Rachel bit her lip, pretty sure she already knew the answer. "What did they tell you?" she asked at last.

She felt him shrug in response, though it did nothing to hide the amusement in his tone. "That you've been moody and moping and snapping their heads off at every opportunity – and that if I didn't move heaven and earth to get back to you, then they would release some very compromising pictures of my good self into the Twitter sphere." He turned his head an inch to trace his mouth over her ear with a teasing whisper. "Though how they know about _those_, I have no idea."

Rachel felt herself flushing and quickly changed the subject.

"Okay, but how did you get back here? Last I heard it was an unfeasible and _impractical _plan."

"Called in a favour. Luckily, the director's partner was very sympathetic to my plight and had a word on my behalf. It's_ still_ ridiculously impractical," he said, pulling back to rest his head against her hair with a playful sigh. "But I suppose you're worth it."

She grinned, nudging him pointedly with her elbow. "So why didn't you tell me?"

"You were ignoring my calls, remember?"

"Oh. Yeah."

She winced guiltily, but Jesse just laughed and gently turned her around in his arms, touching his forehead to hers.

"Happy New Year, Rach."

She beamed but before she could return the sentiment, he cut her off with a soft kiss. Lifting her arms to wrap around his neck, Rachel pulled herself tight against him and drew the sweetly burning contact out for as long as she could. His hands slid down to her hips as their lips parted, and it was like offering water to a parched desert flower, throwing the shutters open wide to sunlight – the lovers unfurling in each other's touch and taste as they embraced the blissful rush of everything they had been surviving without for far too long.

Rachel moaned a little petulantly when they broke apart for air, making Jesse chuckle and curl his fingers in her hair, though his gaze was no less wanting.

"So what are your resolutions for this year?"

"Hmm," she murmured, dropping back down from her tip toes as she regarded his question thoughtfully. "To maybe be a little more forgiving," she said at last, meeting his eyes with a wry smile. "And to win a Tony."

"Another one?"

"That was for the _show_," she corrected. "It's not the same."

Jesse raised an eyebrow. "Whatever happened to embracing the collaborative spirit of the theatre?"

She lifted her chin loftily, unapologetic in her ambition. "That doesn't mean you still can't appreciate personal recognition."

He laughed, kissing her forehead, the only person who could ever match his own passion for perfection. Loosening his grip around her waist, he extended a hand which Rachel took with a smile.

"Shall we join the party?"

A private grin crossed her lips, lighting up her eyes, as she tugged on his hand and pulled him back to her. Her fingers brushed over his cheek before knotting firmly in his hair, drawing his smirking mouth back to hers with a tantalizing promise. "In a minute…"

**~o~**

_I'm straight in a straight line… Running back to you_

**~o~**

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><p><strong>AN<strong> Well, I hope you enjoyed this, just a little one-shot to cheer myself up. I suppose it could even be seen as the sister seasonal story to _'Baby It's Cold Outside'_, with Jesse making the journey to be together this time. While this fic is dedicated to all lovely, loyal St. Berrians, it was also inspired by _DarrenPinkSunglasses_ video _'All This Time'_, which is just beautiful and features my favourite couples of _Glee_ and of course, my OTP :) I would encourage anyone to check it out if they want to, it always makes me smile. Also, by some wonderful miracle, it has escaped the YouTube copyright Nazis so far – so see it while you can!

Reviews, in any length or style, make my day :) Seriously, yes, I am that sad.


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